As I get older, I find myself questioning war, foreign policy, and the stories nations tell themselves. Not from a place of hatred or ignorance, but from exhaustion and curiosity. Most ordinary people are not experts in geopolitics. We work jobs, pay bills, try to build decent lives, and hope the world stays stable enough for our families to survive in peace. Yet again and again, we are told that somewhere far away there is another enemy, another threat, another reason we must become involved.

Take Iran and nuclear weapons. The truth is, most civilians do not actually know what intelligence governments possess behind closed doors. Iran does not currently have publicly confirmed nuclear weapons, according to many international assessments, although it has enriched uranium and developed nuclear capabilities that worry Western governments and regional rivals.^[1] That distinction matters. A country having the capability to eventually build a nuclear weapon is not the same thing as possessing one already.

So why is Iran pressured so heavily not to obtain them? The argument from the United States, Israel, and many Western allies is that nuclear proliferation in an already unstable region could increase the risk of catastrophic war. Israel in particular views a nuclear-capable Iran as an existential threat because Iranian leaders and allied groups have historically used hostile rhetoric toward Israel. Critics, however, point out what appears to be a double standard: some countries possess nuclear weapons and are accepted, while others are told they cannot. That naturally raises questions about power, influence, and who gets to decide the rules of the world order.  

Then there is Iraq. In the early 2000s, the American public was told that Saddam Hussein possessed weapons of mass destruction. That claim became one of the primary justifications for the invasion of Iraq. Those weapons were never found. Years later, many Americans across the political spectrum came to believe the war was based on flawed intelligence, exaggerated claims, or political motivations.^[2] For many people, that moment permanently damaged trust in government narratives about foreign threats.

I recently spoke with a veteran, and what struck me most was sincerity. He genuinely wanted to serve his country and protect people. He joined because he believed in duty, stability, or service. Soldiers are often sent into conflicts shaped by decisions far above their heads. In many ways, they are participants in systems larger than themselves, just as civilians are spectators trying to make sense of events they cannot control.

That is part of what feels so strange about modern geopolitics. Ordinary citizens are expected to passionately support or oppose conflicts happening thousands of miles away, even though very few of us truly understand the intelligence, economics, alliances, or historical grievances involved. We are often reacting to narratives delivered through media, politics, fear, and emotion. Sometimes it feels less like democracy and more like being in the crowd at a football game; emotionally invested in something we are not actually playing.

The Middle East itself is incredibly complicated. Many governments in the region are authoritarian, corrupt, or unstable. At the same time, the civilians living there are human beings trying to survive, raise children, and live normal lives just like anyone else. It is easy for propaganda and rhetoric to flatten entire populations into caricatures, especially during wartime. But reality is always more human and more tragic than slogans.

A major reason the United States remains deeply involved in the Middle East is strategic interest. Historically, oil has been central to the global economy, and stability in oil-producing regions has mattered to every industrialized nation. Although the United States produces enormous amounts of oil domestically today (ranking as the world’s top producer ahead of Saudi Arabia and Russia), global energy markets are interconnected.^[3] Disruptions overseas can still affect prices, trade, and economic stability at home. There are also military alliances, shipping routes, anti-terrorism efforts, and geopolitical competition with countries like Russia and China that shape American involvement. Oil is thus a more complex and interconnected problem than merely saying, “We have our own oil, let’s just forget about Iran.”  

The primary reason the U.S. cannot simply “unplug” from the world stage is a matter of refinery chemistry. Not all crude oil is created equal. Domestic shale oil is typically “light and sweet,” while many American refineries were historically engineered to process the “heavy and sour” crude found in regions like Venezuela and the Middle East.^[4] These refineries act like specialized kitchens; one designed to cook steak cannot easily switch to baking soufflés without multi-billion-dollar overhauls. Consequently, the U.S. frequently exports its light oil and imports heavy oil to keep its industrial infrastructure running efficiently. This creates a functional dependency on global partners, regardless of domestic production volumes. But then again, couldn’t we just take some of the billions we spend on military and make the investment for new refineries? Sounds more like an excuse.  

Oil is a fungible commodity, meaning its price is set on a global scale. Fungible means “goods, assets, or commodities that are mutually interchangeable with one another because they are identical in type and value.” For example, a $1 bill is identical in value and utility to any other dollar and can be exchanged without any difference to the holder. Even if the United States produced every drop of oil it consumed, a “rogue” move by a major producer like Iran would cause the global supply to drop, sending prices soaring everywhere.^[5] Because U.S. producers sell their oil on the open market to the highest bidder, domestic prices inevitably rise to match the global rate. This interconnection ensures that a conflict in the Persian Gulf is felt at gas pumps in small-town America. Additionally, the idea of long-term self-sufficiency is tempered by geological reality; at current consumption rates, proven U.S. reserves are estimated to last decades, not centuries, making the 500-year prospect of isolationism a mathematical impossibility.^[6]

Finally, the dream of every country producing its own energy is limited by the earth’s natural history. Oil is not found everywhere across the ocean floor; it requires specific ancient organic matter to have been trapped under unique heat and pressure conditions for millions of years. Even where oil exists, the cost of extraction varies wildly. While it may cost $10 per barrel to pump oil in the Saudi desert, it can cost $60 or more to extract it from deep-sea wells. If the market price is low, domestic production in many countries becomes economically ruinous. This combination of geology, refining constraints, and market pricing ensures that the United States, and the world at large, remains locked in a web of energy interdependence.

Beyond these geopolitical and chemical realities, the United States is currently navigating a pivotal transition toward a more diverse energy portfolio that prioritizes renewables. The U.S. is aggressively scaling  solar, wind, and geothermal energy (which taps into the earth’s internal heat), and maintaining a significant nuclear baseload to provide carbon-free power when the sun isn’t shining. Other emerging options include hydropower from river systems, biomass derived from organic materials, and tidal or wave energy harvested from our coastlines. Hydrogen is also being developed as a “clean” fuel for heavy industry and long-haul transport. 

The technological potential to replace fossil fuels does exist, but the timeline for a total transition is a matter of intense debate. Realistically, experts suggest that while the electricity grid could be 80–100% clean within the next twenty to thirty years, completely eliminating oil is much harder.^[7] We would still likely need petroleum for “hard-to-abate” sectors like aviation, global shipping, and the production of plastics and petrochemicals. Over a 500-year horizon, it is highly probable that fossil fuels will be entirely phased out as storage technologies like advanced batteries and green hydrogen mature. However, in the immediate ten-to-twenty-year window, the transition is less about “flipping a switch” and more about a massive, expensive structural overhaul of how we move, build, and manufacture.

Israel is also undeniably part of the equation. The United States and Israel are close allies politically, militarily, and economically. Many Americans support Israel because they view it as a democratic ally in a hostile region, while others believe American policy has become too intertwined with Israeli security concerns. Critics argue that the United States often absorbs enormous financial, military, and political costs from conflicts tied to regional tensions. Supporters argue that abandoning allies creates even greater instability and danger long term. 

The uncomfortable truth is that there are no perfectly clean answers. Isolationism sounds simple until a conflict overseas affects economies, migration, terrorism, or global alliances. Intervention sounds noble until it leads to endless war, civilian deaths, trillions of dollars spent, and damaged trust at home. Most people do not want war. Most people, whether American, Iranian, Israeli, Iraqi, Afghan, Chinese, Russian, or any other nation, simply want stability and dignity.

Maybe that is the hardest part of all. The people making the greatest sacrifices are often the ones with the least power over the decisions themselves.


This article was developed with research assistance from Google Gemini, with all data and sources independently verified for accuracy.

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^[1] International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), NPT Safeguards Agreement with the Islamic Republic of Iran, GOV/2026/8 (February 2026).

^[2] Commission on the Intelligence Capabilities of the United States Regarding Weapons of Mass Destruction, Report to the President of the United States (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 2005)

^[3] U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA), Short-Term Energy Outlook (December 2025).

^[4] American Fuel & Petrochemical Manufacturers (AFPM), “What’s the difference between heavy and light crude oils?” AFPM Blog, January 24, 2025.

^[5] International Journal of Health Sciences and Social Management (IJHSSM), “Interconnectedness of Commodities Share Price” (February 2025).

^[6] Worldometer, “United States Oil Reserves, Production and Consumption Statistics,” based on EIA and OPEC data, accessed May 2026.

^[7] Energy Transitions Commission, Mission Possible: Reaching Net-Zero Carbon Emissions from Harder-to-Abate Sectors by Mid-Century (2018; updated reports through 2025)